Work Text:
"Hangman!" Rosie demanded, she wore her usual smirk when demanding things from the detective.
Sherlock just rolled his eyes in response. "You remind me of me."
That made the little girl chuckle.
"This game still makes no sense," he felt the need to add.
"Daddy says it does," Rosie countered.
"Yes, well," he ran his long fingers through the little girl's hair, it was short just like her mother's had been, "Daddy is a muppet."
She chuckled again and John's head appeared in the kitchen doorway. "I heard that!"
"Is it a lie?"
John smirked, unsure how to reply.
"Lying is naughty, Daddy."
"Quite right sweetheart," he scooped her off his boyfriend's lap and spun her around.
She giggled in the way only a child could. He grinned at her and blew a raspberry on her belly.
Her little legs kicked out nearly catching him in the crotch.
"Umph," John managed to duck out the way and spin Rosie so he could rest her on his hip.
"Popsi lies."
Sherlock's eyes widened at that, having been focused on his boyfriend's interaction with their daughter. It was always their daughter, always. "I do not!" He muttered petulantly, as if he was her age himself.
"You do when uncle Myc is here."
"That's different, he's my brother."
"What have you been lying about to your brother?" John asked, a mock-stern look on his face.
The detective made a point of winking at Rosie. "That's our secret."
Rosie reached out for Sherlock again and John put her down, stepping back into kitchen.
"My turn!" Rosie declared, drawing lines on the paper that rested on the table.
Not having a choice in the matter, the detective twiddled her on his lap to make them both more comfortable while she drew.
"Now what?"
"Pick a letter!" She laughed.
"Z."
Her laugh became even more high pitched. "No, Popsi!"
She drew another line on the paper, longer than others.
"X."
"No!" She drew another line, perpendicular to the first.
Sherlock frowned at it. "What is that supposed to be?"
"Keep losing and find out."
Sherlock tickled her belly and the little girl giggled.
"Q."
"Popsi, you have to try!"
"I am trying," Sherlock countered, resting his chin on her head. He didn't know why he loved being called Popsi so much, maybe because he never thought he would ever father children.
***
"T."
By this point, the man was hanging from the beam, with just a head, a body and one arm drawn.
"You've only got one letter!" Rosie said with a broad grin.
Her grin got wider when John carried in a glass of juice for her and chunks of banana and grapes.
John glanced over and knew the word instantly. The look on his boyfriend's face said he clearly hadn't worked it out yet.
"C'mon Lock, you're supposed to be a detective. The worlds only consulting detective."
"Yes, well, Rosie is far too clever for her own good."
Another giggle came from the little girl while she nibbled on the fruit. "Popsi is going to lose, Daddy. And then he has to buy me chocolate ice cream."
Sherlock smirked, "I think I can stretch to that."
"Maybe the next time you play you should aim your sights a little higher, Rose." John ruffled her hair with his hand then he did the same to Sherlock who grumbled something incoherent to the child's ears.
The doctor just smirked and headed out of the room to find his briefcase for work.
"Don't get into too much trouble while I'm gone!" He called out to them.
"When do we ever?"
John just shook his head ruefully before skipping off down the stairs.
When he returned from the surgery several hours later, many attempts at hangman scattered the room and Sherlock's case board. Every time the detective had lost, whether that was on purpose or not the blond really didn't know.
He smiled into the bedroom when he saw Sherlock on his side, actually asleep with their daughter curled into his side.
Hangman or not, Sherlock made a fantastic father.